


Severed Dreams

by SilentShifter (orphan_account)



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Confusion, Denial, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, First Kiss, First Love, Hurt/Comfort, Kind of a short fic, Love Letters, Love at First Sight, Love/Hate, M/M, Nivanfield, Original Character(s), Pre-RE6
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-07-28
Packaged: 2018-04-05 20:56:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4194600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/SilentShifter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Piers and Chris have some things to sort out. To put it lightly, quite a bit; before either one or both completely deteriorate. Chris can't seem to figure out why Piers avoids him, and with a new weight on the scale, its harder for Piers to balance out both of his growing affections....</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RedfieldandNivans](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedfieldandNivans/gifts), [ViridianK](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ViridianK/gifts).



> Another fic that will be somewhat short (to my estimates, I have no idea how this'll turn out) but hopefully where I'm going with this it'll be alright. Perhaps this'll be a good side-work to write alongside Reinstatement.  
> A tip, I'm trying to focus more on a duller side of the Nivanfield universe, so if a majority of you are heartbroken I'm getting somewhere. 
> 
> Based heavily on the song "Was It a Dream" by THIRTY SECONDS TO MARS. If you wish to listen;  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xVgUG2OB6x8
> 
> Enjoy.. =)

Tears dropped lightly to the surface of the picture with a dull _plop_... they were so small and thin, barely able to stain the thick, beige paper.

Piers knew what he needed to move on. He knew he had what it takes to forget. To run away and never look back.

But he just couldn’t. 

The weeping quickly ceased, a shaking hand wiping at the pink, running nose. Hazel eyes were bloodshot from welling tears, never to fall if their keeper could help it. The broken soldier continue to stare at the photograph only a little longer, before it was briefly crumpled into a lopsided ball and thrown into the trash bin of his cold dorm bathroom. 

With another shaky inhale and frigid water striking his face, Piers ignored the reflection; or what seemed like his image in the mirror. Everything that he could control, big or small, has changed drastically in so little time. It was almost remarkable what the degrees of love could do to a single person and, _how much_ it affected. 

Those were the first and last tears Piers would shed on this; he shall make sure of it. Officially broken hearted, yes. But the cracks were mending.

Right?

That’s what he told himself for the time being, numbing whatever hurt within him with a false sense of affection because, after all...

...anything was better than feeling the pain.


	2. Your Defenses Were on High

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's hard seeing past a poker face.... especially when you have no idea why its there.

Chris couldn’t help his eyes from falling on the form near the edge of the training grounds, a thoroughly distracted man he seemed. _Snap out of that_ , and almost instantly, the brown eyes were fixated on his combat partner, **Marco** , instead. 

Such a sight to indulge in... 

...and one he wouldn’t let his eyes take pleasure to. The Alpha team ace had been the star of his life in more ways than one, though the thirty nine year old wouldn’t even hesitate before lying about it. There weren’t many times Chris could openly demonstrate his appreciation and deep-felt love for Piers, and so usually found himself stealing glances of the forbidden eye candy. 

And now with the younger man so near, meticulously conversing with a partner before carefully lunging, glimmering droplets of sweat coating the tan skin... who wouldn’t gawk? 

Chris shook his head again. _Baloney_. That’s what he thought this all was. And consequently, another false opinion that he stuck in his stubborn head to avoid facing the utter truth. 

This was his Lieutenant, for Christ’s sake! A man significantly important to the stability of Alpha Team, and quite serious in what he does and why he does it. Quite like Chris, Piers was dedicated and unshaken in his work direction, only _most likely_ not looking at his Captain with such… “thoughts.” 

 

Minutes before, Chris couldn’t help but feel worried as chocolate eyes subtly watched Piers cruise into the training grounds, a horrifically believable poker face plastered on. The hazel eyed man made his way to Finn, the clueless rookie delivering a half-hearted smile. 

Too bad it wasn’t returned. 

Who did he think he was fooling? Obviously, everyone; but it wouldn’t be so with this SOA Captain. The expressions were quite professional, grade A obscurity. The perfect way to hide away from yourself _and_ do so without drawing the concern of others. 

Endangering your heart, and for what? It was a fool’s game. Another ample opinion Chris bear... but ultimately, one of truth. Truth.... a word the man felt he didn’t have the balls to utilize.

It was soon time to hit the showers, and with another mumble into his ear a wave of laughter flow from Marco at the initial joke. Chris let his own laughter bellow as the men made their way inside, spying eyes again cutting to an idle Piers quietly confabulating with Keaton. 

A normal sight it would’ve been... if Chris didn’t have the odd feeling within his gut that this newly adapted, hardened temperament of his lieutenant meant so much more. It began about a week ago, when Piers seemed reluctant at Chris’ offers to tussle in the grounds. The small things were seeming to itch at his skin... refusals to get a simple coffee at the Cafe, avoidance in the halls, as little face-to-face contact that could be made within the course of a workday. 

And it was starting to annoy. The crushing restraint that smothered Chris no matter how hard he tried to breathe, a repeatedly failed effort to release himself from sentimentality and not overthink. 

But something within him insisted. Prodded. Poked. He would retaliate his natural system of caring emotions, shut them off... like a certain someone he knew. Too bad he just isn’t all that good at gluing on smiles. Or perhaps, a lack of supply?

Still, his heart whispered to him. Told him, that behind those strangely beautiful caramel eyes, lay something that he wanted to know. _Needed to know._

And his mind would work on overdrive to uncover the truth, if the need arises...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh, quite a bit short! But that's the whole point. :3 
> 
> TBC...


	3. Walls Built Deep Inside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For a moment, he thought it was actually working...

Completing squat in his office, Chris lost an intense staring contest with an empty document on his laptop screen, the cursed mechanism mocking him with its empty space... yet to be filled. But the same thought couldn’t help but rise into his head every other minute. 

_This was ridiculous._

He sat there, nearly scratching off the thick beard stubble upon his cheeks, wholly absorbed in a stupor of intense thought and concentration. When he should’ve been working on the report, Chris mutter soft words of confusion to himself and try arduously to understand just what he was doing with his time. 

Eyes traveled through the office, sweeping over the desk. A picture of Claire, his redheaded little sister; the boys in Alpha, holding thumbs up to the camera proudly; and lastly, Piers, clutching a helmet underneath his arm and smiling. Chris kept his eyes off of it, as to not stare. 

What went wrong? Right when the older man thought he had a slim window of opportunity, a chance to creep out of his thick shell and confront the other... he’s starting right at square one for the hundredth time. It was like some never ending battle, one that forced Chris to constantly run for cover, not willing to be blown by some grenade he wasn’t even sure would come.

A check over the oak wood brought Chris back to reality, the laptop screen once again stealing his glaring gaze. 

In the end, (which only took another foolish five minutes to be realized), Chris abandoned all hopes of writing a letter to his lieutenant and exasperatedly let a sigh explode from his mouth. Caring is hard work. 

“What’s the damn point if he’s just gonna shrug me off again,” Chris mumbled bitterly, returning his key focuses to finishing the report. It would do no good in handing it in late, and he could almost taste the beckoning comforts of a well rested night. The only thing that stood between him and that was an empty document.

Chris sail a hand through his dark hair and cracked his knuckles for good measure; then, vigorously proceed to rapping the keys of his laptop. 

______

 

Piers, nearly dazzling with his newly found demeanor, clutch his prized rifle closely. Each shot fired was a bullet closer to a well deserved night at Lacy's, where he would temporarily drink away his problems. How exciting. 

“Bullseye!” Cried one of the many rookies watching Piers practice. They all lean forward, mesmerized; observing the skilled marksman and his raw talent. 

Piers cut a smirk towards them, before letting a few more rounds find their homes at the centers of targets. These neophytes were looking upon him like some sort of sniper God, huge, twinkling eyes almost begging for private lessons. 

One rookie in particular, **Aiden** was the man’s name… didn’t converse among his comrades or quietly exclaim when Piers made a clean shot. In fact, he stood at the far left of the rest of the men, hands placed firmly on his fit hips. Cropped brown hair had a few highlights of gold, the haircut obvious to the fact that his hair can grow much longer. His vibrant irises, a brightly colored shade of blue topaz, watch intently, only breaking away when Piers met his gaze. 

It confused and equally perplexed Piers, for he hadn’t known why Aiden seemed so eager but all the same shy; perhaps he should one day approach the young man and call for conversation. It could fare better than predicted, and after all, the brunette needed something in mind other than his Captain.

Piers was trying to forget. Throw away the feelings his mind demand he harness. 

...and for a moment, he thought it was actually working… 

The hot, sweaty, and disheveled brunette cruise through void hallways, which heavily lack persons. They were all completing their usual pursuits, while Piers however, head to the bathroom. 

It was spotless as usual. The men would often take up their duties of scrubbing the toilets and basin clean, or in minor cases, washing the mirrors. And usually, these responsibilities had been formed through the loss of makeshift bets or small games.

Cold water met his faint red face for a second time that day, the motion ushering back familiar thoughts. Thoughts he tried to push towards the back of his mind. But once again, _somehow_ , they could splinter his course of thinking no matter what he did. 

Damn it! Or rather, Piers had been damned… how outrageous it was, to be overtaken and held hostage by one's own sentiment. To use your own emotions against yourself without knowing it, bruise your heart blindly and for a love you can’t help but tell yourself is not there.

“In my own mind, flesh, and blood,” Piers irately seethed into the mirror, angry caramel eyes glaring into his wet face, “I can’t restrain my own foolishness? Have I no emotional self control?”

An unhealthy urge to punch the glass shot through his spine, and for a moment, cloud his rational range of thought. But Piers fought away the idea, quickly drying off his face and hair before jogging back to the grounds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TBC...


	4. Am I a Selfish Bastard?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Piers can't help but drink away his problems; and Chris once again proceeds to tear himself apart for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Thanks for waiting so long for this chapter, I tend to be very busy during the Summer. xD
> 
> As you can see, I made a name change because I felt it was just a little too long, something shorter and similar would do better especially so I don't have to use 10 letter abbreviations... 
> 
> Enough of my rambling, enjoy!

The bar was quiet. 

Gentle conversation along with the accompanying noises of glasses clinking now and then were also in the atmosphere, but it wasn’t nearly enough noise to be considered loud and boisterous.

Piers sat at the counter, silently downing shot after shot of hard liquor. The brunette soon lost count after only his third... he never really was a heavy drinker, neither did he ever have a solid reason to drink... besides the target practice going to shit.

He would’ve stopped once the dim room had begun to spin and blur, but the fact that he still remembered why he was drinking pushed him past his limit. Somewhere in that sand, the line had been long washed away by the coming tide; which had been far more powerful than any flood warning can bellow. 

Getting hungover was not even the main task; Piers just didn’t want to recall. Even for a little while. The miserable soldier had been desperate to just forget for a few moments, was such a shitty request so much to ask? 

He muttered a few curses as the liquid burned his already raw and scorching throat, but figured it could’ve been worst. If it weren’t for his unmoving dedication to rid his head of those stubborn images and desires, he wouldn’t even be there. 

Piers almost didn’t notice the hand that gently touched to his shoulder, a ginger move of contact to lightly shake him from his drunken daze. 

He turned around quickly, the only sense in his body seemingly not dulled being his acute awareness. Despite the softness of the almost hesitant hold on his shoulder, he immediately took it into account and grinned lazily at the worried face of his Captain. 

Chris Redfield. Leader of Alpha team... witnessing his drunken Lieutenant completely off his now nonexistent rocker. This was going to be a mess. 

“Oh... Captain!” Piers exclaimed with an anything but subtle slur, completely disregarding the look of pure distraught upon Chris’ face. The chocolate eyes were nearly the catastrophic size of tea saucers, exchanging between Piers’ sleepy face and the half full shot cup. 

Still staring openly with his lips pulled tightly shut, the SOA Captain took the cup from Piers’ lips before he could swallow down the remaining contents in one sitting, setting it on the table slowly.. “Piers, what’re you doing here?” He asked, suddenly appearing wan from confusion. 

What an insult. 

Piers looked at Chris with mock shock and bonked his forehead lightly, “Oh yah, what am I doing here,” He sarcastically answered his superior, “In a bar, with a cup of tipple?” With that said in the worst British accent the world has ever heard, he lifted the cup to his lips and downed what was in there before Chris could stop him. “Maybe, drinking?” 

The slur had been more present now, the booze obviously setting in his system. 

Chris sighed but didn’t yet rip his gaze from Piers’ face, the younger man now muttering unintelligible cusses that seemed directed towards him. As disappointed as he was, he couldn’t help but feel like this event somehow is connected to Piers’ odd demeanor change. It made his palms itch, that feeling of being so unsure but wanting to know just what the fuck you were dealing with all the same.

Even the thoughts of guilt hit him, in proportions that could’ve choked someone with tears. Discovering his partner in a bar drinking himself silly managed to have Chris once again throwing the blame on his head. And with the failure of writing a letter earlier today, the combined effect had the weight of the world. Why couldn’t he stop looking at himself like some selfish bastard?

It was a challenge to push such a humble man like Piers into one of those “Reasons People get Depressed” categories that Chris had been looking at online. Endless articles created by so called “approved” doctors had become something of an obsession, to in some way placate his need to know what has plagued his beloved colleague. The hunger for truth surely became evident over the past few weeks, even Jill has asked if he was alright from time. 

With the way his eyes gawk at the younger man whenever he’s in sight, who wouldn’t? 

“Let’s get you out of here...” 

Chris rose from his stool against the bar and helped Piers up by his side, taking to note how easy it was. And to think, all these years, he hadn’t once tried to throw the younger over his shoulder. Perhaps now the idea would appeal to him... even now. 

Piers let Chris throw his arm over his broad shoulder and control the rest of his motions besides his legs, giggling almost a little too hard as they left the place. “Leaving so soon already? What! I wasn’t even on my seventh one, I swear,” 

His giddy protests were enough to convince Chris that Piers was really out of it; the younger man probably laughed more in that moment then he has in three years. 

_“I should be upset....”_ Chris grumbled to himself, voice merely a whisper as he watched Piers slowly pull his sluggish body into the presented truck. _“...but I’m just worried...”_

“Nice ride... **Hey!** How come you never drove me around in this thing!” Piers asked once Chris shut his door and circled back to the driver’s seat. He picked around the front of the car with slow, lugging movements and prodded at anything he laid his eyes on, cursing foully at the objects. 

Piers scowled when he didn’t get an answer, pouting those insanely plush lips that Chris couldn’t help but gape at. “Huh? What. I wasn’t gon’ wreck it or anything like that...” He said, playing with the window’s up and down buttons. “Besides... who said I always like riding in my own damn car!” 

Chris glanced towards Piers. Why _hadn’t_ he drove the man around? It was something that dawned on him like some sort of epiphany, even though he knew words that came out a drunk man’s mouth weren’t always to be taken seriously. 

When the car began to move, the brunette was caught by surprise and fumbled around his seat, accidentally smacking Chris with his attempt to get comfortable. “Sorry! Sorry Cap’n.... sooooorry...” He still mumbled, rolling down the window of the truck. 

It would’ve been a lie to say Chris had not shudder when Piers leaned over near him to rub his face as he apologized, warm breath heavily smelling of liquor brushing past his earlobe. The older man rolled down his own window, some much needed air coming to his aid. 

Was it wrong to have such strong feelings for Piers even in his current state? Should Chris have, rather than driving Piers home and fueling a later fire, curse himself a blue streak for weighing such responsibility upon his head? And why, why in the name of fucking hell, did he get such a crushing feeling of culpability...? 

Those are the questions that left the man breathless whenever they ran through his head... especially because of the fact that he never had an actual answer.

“Damn these pants are so fucking tight.... can I crash at your place...?” Piers mumbled, visually planting his hand on the front of his denim to adjust his package. Once he seemed comfortable the slight sigh he voiced had Chris’ eyes widening the size of shot glasses again. He asked his former question again, still quietly cursing and laughing from random things... probably assuming Chris accepted.

To be completely honest, that’s where the other was going anyways. He wasn’t up to bringing Piers back to base in such a state, and though a fierce boner that he damned to hell lay rock solid in his pants... he cared more for Piers than the younger hardly knew. 

Or, did he?

It wasn’t until they were off the freeway and riding up to Chris’ flat that Piers groaned quietly, wrapping an arm lightly around his stomach. _“Cap’n....”_

Chris immediately pulled over, he knew all too well what came after unconditional drinking...

“I’m gonna... be..... s....” The passenger door flew open and Piers nearly emptied his entire stomach content onto the pavement, Chris watching solemnly until it was over before stepping out his side of the car. 

“Come on...” He whispered, chocolate eyes dulling as he pulled Piers up and helped him to the building.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TBC....


	5. Did Your Intentions Change?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris can't help but feel like his world will end soon; and Piers is just as scared as he is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yus yus, I know, extremely long waiting time for this chapter... ^^; 
> 
> Hopefully the content will be a rich apology. 
> 
> Enjoy! <3

He honestly didn’t remember a thing. 

At least, not the moments after he began to drink heavily... much of the events at that point were either a strong haze or totally gone, although he couldn’t decide if that was just his luck or the worst thing that could happen.

Piers couldn’t believe how sore his body felt, how hard the pounding in his head slowly beat on his weakened brain, which still felt slightly foggy from the liquor. 

“Goddamn it...” Piers groaned, immediately sitting up. It was a bit too comfortable to be his bunk back at base and the room seemed a lot bigger too, even in the pitch darkness. What exactly happened at that bar? Is he in someone else’s bedroom? It scared Piers to death, to think that he might’ve actually....

Fumbling blindly for something to grip, his hand brushed against a string and he pulled on it, opening what was the desk lamp besides him. A rush of light immediately filled the area, illuminating just enough so that Piers could see the tall dresser far off to the right, the oak door, and of course; the rest of the bed. 

Thankfully it had been empty besides him, but that still didn’t put out the building flame slowly burning Piers’ gut. He couldn’t get the possibility of being taken home with a stranger during his senseless drinking out of his head, and he wasn’t too keen on finding out what the truth would be... 

Lazily, Piers rose to his feet although his legs were shaking a bit, and observed the closed curtains, obvious to the fact that it had indeed still been dark outside. On his glowing neon green watch wrote a startling 5:14 a.m., so he might’ve been out for only a couple hours. 

It was a relief to Piers that his clothes were still on, they seemed just as secure as he remembered before the world began to spin. The only difference could be the faint smell of booze on his breath. Just how much did he have to drink? It might not have been too many shots since he woke up so early... 

“Fuck this headache to hell,” Piers grumbled, putting on his shoes and rubbing at his disheveled hair. Weak legs trailed him to the door and he stopped just in front of it, heart quickening. Should he sneak out? But where would he go? Damn it, this really wasn’t the soldier's best day... 

Opening the door in almost slow motion, Piers stepped out and grimaced at the sight of a dark hall, far too dark to see anything but the walls. After a few cautious steps down the narrow pathway, Piers saw another bedroom, the door cutting off his reach. It must’ve been the room of the person he went with. Now was the time that Piers wished the ground would just swallow him up, perhaps maybe then he wouldn’t have to go through such unnecessary torture. 

_Just open the door. Can’t be too strenuous._ As easy as it seemed in his mind, the brunette just couldn’t do it. What had went through his mind? Piers might be just a bit depressed; but that doesn't support the fact that he might have put himself in danger for a something that happened a week ago. Going to that bar was a stupid idea. It was a fucked up choice. But then again, he is 25 years old and perfectly able to stand up for himself, physically and mentally. 

Opening a door won’t change that. 

With that small morale speech in his pounding head, Piers braced his fingertips onto the cold metal of the doorknob and turned it gently, as slow as the mechanism can be rotated. He held a breath in his lungs and pushed the door open, finding what could’ve killed him right then and there. 

-

Chris planted a now passed out Piers onto the bed of his guest room. The soldier looked so peaceful, so _innocent_ , that it took the older man a couple of seconds before he could turn away and depart the room. Those plush lips and beautiful brown eyelashes, baby-faced features and that broad nose would be the death of him. If Piers knew what an enormous influence he had on his superior...

Huh, Chris had his work cut out for him. And that small voice in the back of his head still tore at his confidence, telling him that it might just be his fault Piers went off the deep end. If it connected any way to earlier that day, then surely the whole thing could be his doing. Why has the younger man changed so much, especially in Chris' presence? This last week has been absolute hell for the older man, he missed the closeness he once shared with his Lieutenant. The laughs and jokes, the lack of tension in the air that now floats around constantly, a huge gray storm cloud waiting to dampen Chris' mood.

What was he thinking, driving Piers to his house? He would surely get the speech of his life from Jill if this ever got out back at base. And just the thought of her angry, somewhat rambling voice had the SOA Captain cringing in dread. Fuck Jill’s speeches. Give him all the J’avo in the world instead. 

Feeling probably even more drenched in fatigue then he has all day, Chris gently closed the door behind him to his master bedroom and flopped down on the bed, pushing his palms into his eyes. What would happen when his Lieutenant wakes tomorrow? What would he think? 

_What in the name of hell will Chris do?_

In all reality, he might have been overreacting just a pinch, looking upon the next morning as Judgement Day. Who knew, Piers could actually be enraged and probably punch his captain out. The possibilities were endless with the young ace.

Chris rolled around on the much too large bed and sighed, staring at the empty spot of cobalt blue besides him for a lengthy minute. It’s been far too long since he’s made love on this bed, not that there has been anyone to make love with... and one night stands just weren’t his thing.

With another sigh and an incoherent grumble of frustration, Chris kicked his shoes off and pulled his shirt over his head, far too exhausted and lazy to try and step out of his pants. Besides, these were his favorite pair of jeans and the man had no problem sleeping in them. 

Chris honestly wasn’t sure just how long he had been asleep, but when he awoke the sun was not yet up. His bladder screamed bloody murder to be relieved, probably from all the Gatorade he drank earlier at work. 

Was it already 5 a.m? That’s what the clock said, but he still couldn’t believe that he had only slept for five damn hours. Just as Chris stood to head to the bathroom, the sight of Piers rigid at the bedroom entrance had his piss freezing inside of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TBC...


End file.
